


Episode 17: Resistance is Futile

by Kako_Pumpkin



Series: Legends of Tomorrow Season 2 Rewrite [17]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Birthday, Canon Rewrite, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Era: the 90's, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kako_Pumpkin/pseuds/Kako_Pumpkin
Summary: It's the 90's, kids!Jax turns 21, and the Legends decide to celebrate in the good ol' fashioned way - partying it up in 1990's Central City! Although in hindsight, they probably should have asked Jax if he wanted to party in the first place...oops!Meanwhile, in another era, Legion!Len has his own shenanigans to contend with...





	1. Chapter 1

 

**SCENE:** We see Jax, sitting in the engine room and reading through an electronic manual, frowning as he scrolls through the pages. A half-eaten, very boring sandwich sits next to him, along with his box of tools. It looks to be the set up for an extremely tame night in - with Lily dropped back to Central City and no immediate leads to where the Legion would strike next, there isn’t much to do besides routine maintenance. And the maintenance is _very_ routine. Suddenly the alarm blares and he jumps to his feet.

“What the –” he starts, but he’s interrupted by Sara’s voice shouting through the intercom:

“Jax! Emergency! Get to the control deck – _now!”_

His eyes widen and he runs out the door.

 

**SCENE:** Jax arrives through the doors of the control deck, and then pulls up short. We see the rest of the Legends crew, and they’re dressed like the losing side of a fashion war. Neon prints ahoy; it’s the 90s condensed in a few outfits. Sara is wearing a denim mini skirt with a cut-off spaghetti top and a denim jacket and platforms, accessorised with a plastic choker and butterfly clips. Amaya, meanwhile, is wearing an ankle-length denim skirt, with flip flop platforms and a full spaghetti top. Ray has spiked up his hair and is wearing a skater shirt underneath a plaid short-sleeve button down, which is open. He’s also got sweatbands around his wrists, and skater Sketchers.  Mick is wearing a neon tracksuit, Rip is wearing a polo neck under a baggy suit, and Stein…let’s just say that it was clear that _Clarissa_ was the one who picked out the wardrobes normally. In a word – man-pris. Here’s a second word: sandals.

“Oh no,” says Jax.

“Oh, _yes,”_ says Sara.

“Not the 90s,” says Jax, backing up. “Come on. The 90s were _so bad.”_

“But Jax!” exclaims Ray, far too sincere, even for him. “The 90s gave us you!”

Jax just levels a flat look at Ray. “This isn’t a mission, is it?” he asks the room at large, and Sara shoots him some finger guns.

“Nope!” she declares. “It’s a surprise~ birthday party!”

Jax…just stares…and slowly closes his eyes…

 

**INTRO SEQUENCE**

**Narration [Ray]:** Time travel is real, and all of history is vulnerable to attack, which is why we must travel through time to keep anyone from damaging it. We are a team of outcasts and misfits. So please don’t call us heroes, we’re legends.

 

**SCENE:** It’s late evening, already growing dark. We see a sign that says Central City – it’s different to the one we would have seen in the Flash, very outdated looking. The date is 1996.

 

**SCENE:** On the top of a closed-off parking lot, we hear the Waverider coming in, and then we see it land, cloaking as it does so. The doors open up and the Legends troop out, looking around with massive grins on their faces.

“Ta-daa!” says Sara, spreading her arms and spinning around. “Central City, 1996. Jax my buddy, we are gonna get you _drunk.”_

“But not _too_ drunk,” Stein hastens to add. “I promised your mother –”

He startles when Mick claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be a downer, Professor,” he says to Stein. “There’ll be plenty of adult supervision.”

“Okay – that’s great,” interrupts Jax. “But guys, I’ve been trying to tell you –”

Sara holds up her hands. “Say no more!” she declares. “I know, I know – you probably don’t have a lot of experience –” She hastens to complete her sentence when Jax glares at her incredulously and Mick snorts –“with alcohol! With alcohol. Luckily, you have some seasoned professionals on hand to help.”

“That makes it sound like you’re alcoholics,” retorts Jax, crossing his arms. But he’s not being mean about it – everyone’s outfits and excited manners are getting to him, and he’s amused despite himself. Besides, it’s hard to be in a bad mood when you’re wearing an oversized Gotham Knights jersey and a pair of Docs. There’s just no defence that could stand against the ridiculousness of the clothing.

“Jax, you are gonna have the best – birthday – _ever,”_ finishes Sara triumphantly, and everyone gathers in to give a cheer and pat him on the back. Jax clearly just gives up and gives into it, shaking his head and laughing as they begin to move away from the Waverider.

 

**SCENE:** Change of scenery – we see the exterior of a lavish manor and expansive immaculate grounds. On the screen, we learn that this is 1821, Lincolnshire, England. Inside the manor, the halls and rooms are ornately decorated with expensive furniture and paintings, some of which cover whole walls. It’s a well-known scene, familiar from countless period dramas. It’s utterly quiet as we linger on a painting of a woman looking heavenwards – then Legion!Len steps forward, examining it with a critical eye. Oculus!Len pops up behind him, also examining it.

“Eh,” he says. “Dime a dozen. Give me a good ol’ fake Vermeer any day of the week.”

Legion!Len moves away from the painting after a moment, clearly bored. There’s no movement in the house; the only noise is the very faint sound of his shoes. He passes by a room where the door is half-open and he glances inside; there’s an empty cradle, with a few toys strewn about. The remains of a fire are still in the grate, and there’s a half-eaten bowl of soup with a book on a side table near the cradle. Legion!Len’s face becomes troubled. He moves past the door, and a moment later, Oculus!Len walks by, peering in with curiosity before drawing back, also becoming troubled. He glances in the direction Legion!Len walked, and begins to follow again.

“Don’t you find this tour a little dull?” says Oculus!Len. “If I were me, I’d be listening at doors for some juicy intel on the Legion. No shame in it.”

Legion!Len walks further down the hall, exploring a little until he reaches the end door, which he opens – and stops. Laid out on a table are the spear pieces. Legion!Len approaches these slowly, face turning curious – contemplative. As he walks forward, Oculus!Len appears behind him.

“It’s quiet…” he says, as Legion!Len places a hand on one of the pieces. It glows faintly. _“Too_ quiet…”

Legion!Len just sighs, grimacing slightly and leaning heavily on the table. “Okay. You know what? That’s it.”

Oculus!Len blinks as Legion!Len abruptly turns, crossing his arms and…looking straight at Oculus!Len. Legion!Len has a small spear piece in one hand and he’s twirling it slowly.

“You know, I was really hoping you were just a voice in my head,” says Legion!Len. “But you’re not, are you? You’re _me._ The dead me, that is.”

Oculus!Len is _floored._ All the energy goes out of his body, as though his bones spontaneously disappeared, and he leans heavily against the wall. All he can do is stare at Legion!Len…

 

**SCENE:** Back in Central, the Legends are strolling down a street filled with nightclubs and bars, gleefully looking around. It seems to be some kind of party night, because the streets are packed with people. Ray excitedly points to the distance, where cheers and whizzing noises can be heard.

“Oooh!” he exclaims. “A funfair! Oh guys, can we go?!”

“Ray, it’s _Jax’s_ birthday,” admonishes Sara, gathering Jax under one arm. She swings her other arm wildly. “Which means _he’s_ the focus of tonight!”

As she’s swinging her arm, it immediately becomes apparent that Sara is holding a hip flask. Where she’d kept it earlier will remain one of the greater mysteries of the universe, particularly since her mini skirt is truly living up to its name. Jax makes a grab at it, and she lunges back, offended.

“You’re drinking already!” he exclaims.

“It’s your _birthday!”_ she whines, trying to hug him. He stops her with one hand, and she accidentally walks right into it, smooshing her face against his palm. _“Jaaax._ Come on.”

“I can’t believe you’re already drunk!” he says, gently detaching her from his hand. He jumps when Mick’s hand lands on his shoulder, slapping him heavily.

“Ah, c’mon kid – you don’t always have to be the responsible one,” Mick says, trying to swipe for Sara’s hip flask. She’s still got more than enough wits to retain her ninja responses however, and she darts away, hiding behind Stein, who really wants none of the situation. Mick just grunts, patting Jax’s shoulder again. “Relax. Drinks are on us tonight.”

“Oh gosh, I can remember when I first had a drink,” Ray begins reminiscing happily.

“Guys –” starts Jax.

“It was back in college –” continues Ray, blissfully absorbed in his own memories, until Mick snorts loudly.

“College,” he says. “Really?”

“Guys!” tries Jax again, louder.

“I was very conscientious of the law,” says Ray primly, and Mick starts to laugh. Jax rolls his eyes and gives up again.

“YEET!” declares Sara. “Guys, we’re going THERE.”

She grabs Amaya and catches a hold of Ray, sweeping forward. It’s a nightclub, and it…doesn’t look the best. But there’s a small queue outside, which is usually a good sign. Jax sighs and follows, deciding to just trust in Sara’s instincts – or booze-goggles. Whatever.

Coming up to the nightclub, Sara approaches with absolutely no hesitance, even though the bouncers, dressed in tank tops and voluminous baggy jeans, give her a narrow-eyed examination. To Jax’s surprise, she barely glances at them, instead going straight to a trio of disgruntled young women in their early to mid-twenties near the top of the queue – they’re clearly a part of the ‘not a chance of getting in’ crowd, and they’re not one bit happy about it. She squeals when she sees them, masking their confused expressions with Clueless-worthy exclamations. Only someone used to Sara would notice the way her shoulders go completely still as she whispers something to the girls, and they all nod and proceed to pretend to know who she is until Sara waves goodbye and walks back to the rest of the group, still trailing Amaya and Ray, who look thoroughly confused. The whole exchange takes less than half a minute.

“What did you do?” asks Stein warily.

Sara fixes Jax with a Very Serious Look and replies, “I am securing the night.”

With that the Legends are left watching the nightclub very dubiously, waiting for…whatever Sara has clearly planned…

 

**SCENE:** Back in the manor, the two Lens face off; Oculus!Len still staring at Legion!Len, and Legion!Len just waiting patiently.

“You – can see me?” Oculus!Len finally says.

“Mm, the whole time. Just didn’t think it was a great idea to mention possible hallucinations in front of the ‘Legion’,” replies Legion!Len. He peers closer. “Did my hairline _always_ look like that? Huh.”

Oculus!Len doesn’t respond to that. “Wait, so…you could see and hear me…the _whole_ _time_?”

“If you’re asking if I could hear your narration on why Queen Bee shouldn’t be allowed near bustles and large hats, when we first took over this place…yes,” replies Legion!Len dryly. “Thanks for that, by the way. I nearly gave myself a hernia trying to not to react.”

Some of Oculus!Len’s shock disappears beneath a wicked grin. “Hey…it’s not as though you can say you weren’t thinking the exact same thing.”

Legion!Len smirks. “Judging by your reaction,” he says. “I’m guessing I’m the first one who could see you?”

Oculus!Len pauses, face falling. “…no,” he says shortly, after a moment. “But that’s neither here nor there – you know, you seem less…shocked…than I expected…”

Legion!Len is still smirking. “Can you really say you’re surprised?” he says. “We’re the same, aren’t we?”

“Probably,” drawls Oculus!Len. “Especially since we seem to be making the same dumb choices every chance we get.”

Legion!Len narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You’re at the Legion’s beck and call,” says Oculus!Len, raising an eyebrow. “If they say jump –”

“Like you’re any better,” says Legion!Len. “The Legion told me all about how you gave yourself up like the sacrificial lamb you signed yourself up to be.”

“That wasn’t for _them!”_ snaps Oculus!Len, viciously. There’s a pause as both of them realise what he’s said. Legion!Len doesn’t look like he has any idea what Oculus!Len’s talking about, and Oculus!Len evaluates Legion!Len carefully.

“They didn’t tell you everything, did they?” he says. “Well, well. Can’t say I’m surprised. Are you?”

“Hardly,” says Legion!Len. “I’m you from an earlier time, sure, but that doesn’t make me a greenhorn. I don’t intend on dying for _their_ ideals.”

“I hardly died for the _Legends’_ ideals,” sneers Legion!Len. “And I’m not really dead, anyway.”

“Right – a half-life, sort of,” smirks Legion!Len. “So, what part of _Ghost_ did you get to, hanging around with the Legends?”

“Funny,” says Oculus!Len, obviously not amused. “Tell me you at least have a plan.”

“Oh, sure,” says Legion!Len blithely, waving his hand. “Stay with the Legion. Help them out. And when the time comes, get Mick away from those idiots and return to Central City.”

“That’s it?” says Oculus!Len. “That can’t be it. The Legion are serious business –”

“I’ve outsmarted meta-humans before,” says Legion!Len. “I can manage a handful of narcissists.”

“Improvisation will only get you so far,” warns Oculus!Len, and Legion!Len waves away his concerns.

“They need me for now,” he says, but Oculus!Len scoffs.

“They don’t need you!” he says. “You’re dime a dozen to them! Remember how they left you behind in that asinine quiz show? They’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing, because to them, you _are_ nothing.”

“Like you have any room to talk,” snaps Legion!Len. “You signed up with the Legends! A bunch of wannabe heroes that needed you so little they let you die!”

“Says the guy who’s going to get himself killed because he doesn’t have a real plan!” snaps Oculus!Len.

“If _you_ had a plan, you wouldn’t have died for those fake heroes!” retorts Legion!Len.

“I didn’t die for them!” snarls Oculus!Len, hands forming tight fists. “I died for Mick!”

Silence rings out at this – Legion!Len looks shocked, Oculus!Len can’t believe he said that out loud, and they can only stare at each other…

 

**SCENE:** The Legends are standing on the other side of the street, waiting…for something.

“What are we doing just hanging around?” says Mick. “I want a drink.”

“Patience, buddy,” says Sara, patting his arm. “Aaaany second now.”

“I’m getting chilly,” says Stein, and Sara replies absently, her eyes still on the club: “Shouldn’t have worn man-pris, Professor.”

Then – seemingly out of nowhere, a fight breaks out in the club’s queue, large and messy enough that it immediately pulls the bouncers away from the doors. The team can recognise an opening when one arrives; they all dart forward – Sara and Ray giggling for some reason – as they rush into the club.

“Ta-daa!!” exclaims Sara, but she has to do it rather loudly because the nightclub is blaring prime mid90s music.

“Why did we run all the way?!” shouts Stein, thoroughly winded.

“I know clubs!” replies Sara, also shouting. “There’s no way we weren’t gonna get carded. And since none of us _have_ cards…”

“That, and the Professor’s old enough to be a grandpa,” adds Mick, moving past them towards the bar. “You’re not ‘hip’ enough for this place.”

Stein bristles and blusters. “Why – you – says you!” he tries, but Mick is already long, long gone.

Meanwhile, Sara has enlisted the help of Amaya and Jax to help her open up the emergency exit. The three girls from earlier filter in, a redhead, and blonde, and a black haired girl, each of them throwing them grins.

“Thanks for the assist,” says Sara, and the blonde laughs noisily.

“Oh please – it was child’s play to start a fight,” she says, before bouncing away towards the bar. “Especially when you’re studying psychiatry!”

“Men are idiots,” says the redhead, tossing her hair. “You hardly need a PhD to tell you that.”

“Thanks for the door, honey,” purrs the black-haired girl to Sara, and the redhead rolls her eyes and pushes her along.

“C’mon, Selina!” calls out the blonde. “We’ve only got a few hours before we have to book it back to Gotham!”

“How could you tell that they were going to help?” asks Jax, watching them leave. Sara throws a glance over her shoulder, catching the gazes of all three girls, who are smiling artfully as they sip their new drinks. Sara tosses them a saucy wink and they all grin wider.

“Birds of a feather,” she replies lightly, slapping Jax’s back. “Let’s boogie!”

“Wrong era,” he says, shaking his head, but he follows along anyway. As he passes the bar, he sees a gorgeous brunette and chances a smile. Success – she smiles back! But before he can go over, Ray snags him just as Backstreet Boys comes on, and Jax can’t help but laugh and dance along with his teammate.

 

**SCENE:** A bit of time has clearly passed in the nightclub. Different music is playing, although it’s still ‘classics’, and the team has dispersed. In the bar area of the nightclub, Mick has just finished downing a shot, clearing a row and – judging from the cheers of people around him – winning some kind of competition. Rip and Stein, oddly, seem to have formed a temporary team based on intimidation of their surroundings: both of them sit with a glass of something, wide-eyed at everyone’s enthusiasm. Pop music is still blaring out of cheap speakers, and the ‘retro’ disco ball is throwing different colours on the dancers and partygoers. Mick raises his arms and lets out a roar of triumph.

“Who’s next!” he bellows, grinning wildly as Amaya saunters casually out of the crowd, placing her hands on her hips. “New! Challenger!”

Her lips quirk up as the delighted barman pours a fresh round of shots. Sara comes up beside her, hair a mess from the dancefloor, and she catches Amaya’s arm.

“Hey, Amaya,” she says to the other woman. “Time was I could drink that guy under a table, but he’s _definitely_ built up his alcohol tolerance since then. Are you _sure_ you want to do this?”

Amaya simply looks her dead in the eye and replies, quite seriously: “Of course. I’ll have you know I have the constitution of a horse.”

The partygoers all cheer as the shots are completed, and Sara just shakes her head wonderingly and grins as Amaya saunters up to the bar and matches Mick’s grin, ounce for ounce.

 

**SCENE:** On the other side of the bar, Jax is shaking his head, amused at his friends’ antics. Sara sidles up to him.

“Jax, mah main man!” she exclaims. “You don’t have a drink in your hand! Crimes against humanity! Barkeep – a jack and coke for the man of the night, if you please.”

Amazingly, a jack and coke is almost immediately put down before Jax, and he looks impressed.

“Thanks!” he says, and Sara solemnly lays a hand over her chest.

“Just doing my captainly duty,” she says, knocking off a salute. Jax hears some lovely laughter behind him, and he turns to see the gorgeous brunette from earlier, her eyes twinkling.

“Gosh, I wish I had friends like that,” she says, almost teasingly. “They all like this in Central?”

Jax gives her his whole attention, totally oblivious to Sara’s delighted expression. “Not everybody, believe me,” he says laughingly. “You’re not from Central?”

“Oh, I’m just here for a friend’s birthday,” says the girl.

“Omigosh, us too!” gushes Sara. “It’s Jax’s birthday! And this is Jax! You guys both have birthdays, you have so much in common! You should totally talk about that!”

And then she unceremoniously _shoves_ Jax at the girl and slips away, grinning. Jax manages to catch himself before he bashes right into her, but it’s a near thing, and he feels his face heat up. Luckily, she just thinks it’s funny, and she laughs.

“I’m Jessica, Jessica Cruz,” she says, smiling. “Your friends are adorable!” It’s a blindingly pretty smile, and Jax finds himself smiling along with it.

“They’re…” He pauses. “Yeah, they’re something, all right.”

Jessica laughs again, and despite himself…Jax finds that he’s really enjoying this night.

 

**SCENE:** Back in England, Legion!Len and Oculus!Len are mentally circling one another – even being the same person doesn’t stop their suspicious minds from turning on whether they can trust one another.

“I died for Mick,” says Legion!Len slowly. “The Legends try to get him killed?”

Oculus!Len shakes his head slowly. “I screwed him over,” he says. “At the time, it…it was the only way.”

He doesn’t specify whether he means the initial betrayal of Mick, or the eventually sacrificing of himself – possibly he means both. Legion!Len looks at him thoughtfully, crossing his arms again. His eyes flick down to the spear pieces he’s still got in his hand.

“Then this becomes about Mick, doesn’t it?” he says, and Oculus!Len doesn’t have to answer – the agreement is obvious in every line of his body.

“So…you’re _really_ going to keep hanging out with these idiots?” says Oculus!Len after a few moments, and Legion!Len raises an eyebrow.

“You’re one to talk,” he replies. “You seem so bored; I’m surprised you’ve stuck around instead of going back to those Legends of yours –”

They’re suddenly interrupted by Darhk walking into the room. He clearly doesn’t expect to see Legion!Len there, as he’s pulled up short – then his gaze goes to the spear piece in Legion!Len’s hands, and his eyes narrow with suspicion. From Darhk’s perspective, the scene definitely looks bad. Legion!Len puts his game face back on and just smirks, gently putting the piece back on the table.

“Hello, Darhk-ness, my old friend,” says Legion!Len, smirk widening as Darhk’s frown deepens.

“I’m not sure if I’d consider us _friends,_ Snart,” says Darhk, his tone matching his expression. He lifts his chin at the spear pieces. “What were you doing over there?”

“Can’t blame a man for getting curious, can you?” Legion!Len replies, but the suspicion in Darhk’s eyes doesn’t fade. Legion!Len is observed for a moment before Darhk smiles, slowly.

“We haven’t really given you a proper mission brief, have we?” he says. Now it’s Legion!Len’s turn to narrow his eyes, and Darhk gives a little chuckle, opening the door again.

“Why don’t you just…follow me?”

Darhk doesn’t catch the misgiving look both Lens share…

 

**SCENE:** We see the other side of the club, panning over the dancefloor where Stein, Rip, and Ray are committing crimes against rhythm, to where Jax is lounging against a table with Jessica. They’re leaning in close to talk due to the loudness of the music, but neither of them seem to mind. There’s definite flirty body language going on.

“This place is so cheesy!” shouts Jax, and Jessica shakes her head.

“What?” she shouts back.

“I said this place is so cheesy!”

Jessica shakes her head again, laughing. “I can’t hear you!”

She tips the bottom of his glass, challenging him to finish his drink before she finishes hers. The jack and coke hits him with a wave of amazing dizziness, and he’s grinning by the time he finishes. She slams her glass down on the counter top and grabs his hand, pulling him towards the exit.

“My friends -!” he shouts.

“They’ll still be there tomorrow!” she replies, grinning over her shoulder. Her giddiness is infectious, and Jax lets himself be pulled along. They get outside, where the noise is dimmed and no-one’s around. “Me, on the other hand…I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. Whaddaya say, Jax?” Her eyes twinkle. “Wanna play hooky?”

By way of reply, Jax grins.

 

**SCENE:** Inside, oblivious, the Legends party on – Amaya and Mick are taking _way_ too many shots, Stein and Rip have actually accumulated a few glasses of their own and seem to be getting along famously with the help of Mr and Mrs Liquor-Booze, and Sara and Ray are having a dance off (the kind where no-one, really, is a winner).

 

**SCENE:** Back in England, within the mansion, Darhk is leading Legion!Len – with Oculus!Len following – down a staircase, and through a door, heading down to the basement.

“We had to get Thawne to fit it out, of course,” Darhk is saying, while Legion!Len’s face is a perfect mask. “But I think you’ll find it perfectly suited to our needs.”

A low, pained moan reaches their ears and Darhk opens a final door, revealing a fully-kitted out torture chamber. It’s embarrassingly medieval, and the Legion are obviously _loving_ it. Legion!Len is less enthused, particularly when he sees the man strapped into a chair, blood and sweat soaking his shirt. He lingers back when Darhk approaches Queen Bee and Eobard. Darhk’s lip curls as he’s observing the mess of a man in the chair.

“Looks like _someone’s_ sore about needing to be rescued from those future cops,” says Darhk, almost playfully, and blatantly trying to get a rise out of Eobard. Legion!Len, of course, contributes.

“Happy to be of service,” says Legion!Len, but Darhk just looks at him slowly, as though Legion!Len wasn’t welcome in on the little joke. Darhk doesn’t respond to Legion!Len, just turning back to Eobard.

“Get anything from him?” he asks, nodding at the man in the chair, and Eobard shakes his head, the picture of frustration.

“The fool was exaggerating his story to impress a woman,” he replies. “The information is useless.”

“Poor Thawne’s been trying to torture out his frustrations,” coos Queen Bee condescendingly, and Eobard throws a filthy look her way. “So _inelegant._ Here, I’ll show you how torture is done…now, dear, can you do something for me? _Pluck out your own eyes…”_

The man begins to struggle against his restraints and Queen Bee laughs delightedly, releasing the straps. Immediately the man’s fingers go to his eyes, and he begins to scream –

Until his entire upper body is encased in ice, instantly killing him. The Legion angrily turn to Legion!Len, who is standing firm but is visibly grey around the edges.

“Didn’t your mothers ever tell you not to play with your food?” he says casually. The cold gun stays up.

“Can’t stomach a little torture, Snart?” says Darhk. “Maybe you’re not cut out for this Legion after all.”

“What do you mean?” asks Queen Bee, picking up on some undertones in Darhk’s voice.

“I caught him in the spear room a few minutes ago,” he replies, warily eyeing Legion!Len. “Thought I’d show him a little power play, but it looks like the man has no survival instincts.”

“Pointless torture just isn’t my thing,” says Legion!Len, gripping his weapon. He tilts his head at Queen Bee, managing a smirk despite his nerves. “Guess you could say I’m not so big on killing ‘em slowly, Bee Gees.”

“Are you saying you’re out, Snart?” asks Eobard, far too pleasantly. He ignores Queen Bee's narrowed eyes at the nickname. Legion!Len lifts his chin.

“Guess I am,” he replies. The Legion actually look a little taken aback for a moment, before Eobard smiles.

“Well, we can’t say you haven’t been a good sport, Snart,” he says. “And to keep with that sporting spirit, I’ll give you a head start.” His smile deepens into something shark-like. _“Run.”_

 

**SCENE:** Back in the nightclub, Mick and Amaya seem to be holding some kind of staring contest – whatever it is, it has their onlookers utterly still and silent from sheer anticipation. Sara lands right in the middle of them and both Mick and Amaya jolt back. The onlookers groan loudly, and money passes hands.

“Woo!” she says. “Everybody having a good time?!”

Mick and Amaya knock back another shot, and Ray appears, falling against Sara as he loses control of his breaking ability. She doesn’t mind, and Mick starts passing out shots to everyone. They take them without question and knock them back one by one – even Rip and Stein, who catch eyes after doing so and nearly spray each other, trying to contain their giggles. The bar is littered - seriously littered - with empty glasses they’ve clearly drunk. They’re drinking so much the bar staff can’t keep up with cleaning the glasses. Sara leans against the bar, satisfied, and looks around.

Then she keeps looking around. She pushes off the bar and disappears into the crowd. The others watch her go curiously, and a moment later she jumps back in front of them, frantic.

“Guys -!” she yells, waving her arms. “WHERE’S JAX?!”

 

**SCENE:** Jax and Jessica are strolling down a street, brushing arms and grinning – they both know what they’re about, and there’s a lot of flirting happening. A loud ring-ring-ring noise and an equally loud cheer rises up and Jessica’s face lights up.

“Ooooh!” she says excitedly. “A funfair!”

Jax smoothly puts an arm around her shoulders and starts walking them towards the brightly-lit entrance. “Guess where we’re going next, huh?”

She giggles. People are milling about the entrance even at the late hour, and there are enough people there to make it seem like a fun idea. So they head inside, both grinning.

 

**SCENE:** Sara is stomping down the street outside the nightclub, the rest of the team following behind.

“I can’t believe he ditched us!” she says, clearly upset. The others don’t quite know what to do with an emotional Sara, and they just glance at each other. They’re already not walking in straight lines because of the amount they’ve drunk – they’re not in a state to process something so complicated.

“She _was_ super pretty,” tries Ray.

“And it _is_ his birthday,” says Stein.

“You know,” manages Rip, putting a hand over his heart. “I feel like I should be offended by this whole thing. But I’m not. There are more important things to be angry about in life, right?”

“I feel like normally you’d be cheering him on,” says Amaya. While clearly one of the drunkest there, she manages a bit of logical thought. “What’s up, Sara?”

Sara throws her arms up in the air.

“I couldn’t even keep everybody in one place for a _birthday party!”_ she snaps. “How’m I supposed to keep you guys safe if I can’t even keep you _in one goddamn place!_ ”

 

**SCENE:** We’re back at the mansion, and inside, Eobard’s lighting zips through a hallway. A moment passes, and Legion!Len’s head pokes out from behind an ornate vase stand. Oculus!Len rounds to corner, walking over to him.

“They’re gone for the moment,” he says. “But we need to move. Staying in one place is a good way to get killed.”

“You know…” says Legion!Len “All their talk about _sport_ gives me an idea…”

Oculus!Len raises an eyebrow as his counterpart slowly smiles…

 

**SCENE:** Darhk and Eobard meet in the middle of a hallway.

“Did you find him?” asks Eobard.

Darhk shakes his head. “How did he get away from _you_ in the first place?”

“I didn’t expect him to _actually_ use his cold gun,” admits Eobard begrudgingly. “Where’s Bee?”

“She said she had, and I quote, “better things to do than get dirty and sweaty running around after quarry a _speedster_ let go”,” says Darhk, side-eyeing Eobard hard. Eobard glowers. “She’s in one of the receiving rooms, having _tea_ and _crumpets_ or something.”

“Well, it sure must be nice to be her,” says Eobard sardonically, and Darhk just grimaces. Then they get back to searching.

 

**SCENE:** Back on Central City streets, surrounded by happy bars and nightclubs, the team is faced with a miserable Sara – she’s somehow become a very, very sad drunk. This is an unsettling development for everyone involved.

“Saaaraaa…” says Ray. “It’s a birthday party, not a mission!”

“Ugh, Ray, it’s the same thing!” says Sara.  “Every move I make just seems to get you guys into worse and worse trouble –”

Rip, unexpectedly, darts in and tries to hug her. She immediately shrieks and bats him away, flapping her hands at him and flailing.

“Ugh – oh – gross – Rip, I don’t want a hug,” she says. “I don’t _need_ a hug. Do not hug me. Oh my god.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, backing off.

“Seriously,” she says.

“Okay, yes, no, all right, okay,” he says, and he backs away even further. “I just – you seemed so sad –”

“Ugh! It’s fine! I’m _not_ sad,” she says, now rolling her eyes. She doesn’t seem too upset anymore, just resigned. “I just wanted him to have a good night, y’know? But I can’t even do that.”

“I’m sure he’s having a good night,” says Stein. “He certainly doesn’t _feel_ in distress. Although that could be the tequila talking. In which case, we’re both going to be in distress in a few hours.”

“For the record, Blondie,” says Mick. He’s now, somehow, holding _two_ bottles. “I am having an _outstanding_ time.”

“Okay, Sara – cheer up,” says Ray. He, too, is holding a bottle of something. “C’mon guys, new mission! Let’s go find Jax!”

Everybody cheers. Sara just rolls her eyes, but she’s half-smiling again, and she lets herself get tugged along by her teammates.

 

**SCENE:** In England, Legion!Len quickly pulls open a stairway door, looking through the various items in the door – there’s a large mix of household items, such as spools of twine, wallpaper mix, paint…both Lens look at each other, and grin, hard.

“Time to have some fun…” says Oculus!Len.

 

**SCENE:** The Legends are wandering down the street, peering around people to look into bars, and generally just confusing themselves.

“If I was Jax…” mused Ray aloud. “Where would I be..?”

They pass a noisily-decorated karaoke hall and his face lights up. Before he can even say anything though, Sara has reigned him back.

“Nope,” she says. “C’mon Ray, focus. We need to –”

Something attracts her attention. Her eyes go wide as saucers, and her mouth drops open. Ray sees what she’s seeing, and his face immediately matches hers.

“Oh my god…” she breathes.

 

**SCENE:** Back in England, Eobard is zipping through yet another hallway when he pauses and then retraces his steps. He walks carefully to a side door that leads to a set of magnificent steps outside, although the burgeoning night sky makes viewing them a little difficult. Eobard stops and listens hard – there’s a little scrape, and a quiet “dammit!”. He grins sharply – he’s found Legion!Len. He darts forward –

And then stops on the third step down, hard, his momentum still carrying the top half of his body so that in one quick movement, his torso is flung forward, his head cracks off the edge of the stone banister, and he bounces back, struggling to maintain balance. He snarls – his feet are glued to the stone steps, quite thoroughly.

_“How?!”_

At the bottom of the steps, overlooking the chaos, is Oculus!Len, who is enjoying Eobard’s troubles.

“Don’t mess with a handy-man’s grandkid,” he says, and he then walks through the wall and disappears.

 

**SCENE:** Darhk is walking along a hallway, searching for Legion!Len. He reaches the bottom of a stairs leading up to another floor, and an audible twang of a string snapping rings out. A paint can tied to a long piece of string comes shooting down from the ceiling, Darhk having triggered a trap.

“Oh, you _are_ joking,” he says, rolling his eyes and batting it away. It swings wildly on its string as Darhk glares at it, stepping forward –

There’s an audible click. Darhk pauses, closes his eyes, and sighs; it’s himself he’s disappointed in, really. White paint streams from above, splattering a heavy layer over Darhk, ruining his suit and blinding him. He lets out a low, angry groan that builds the longer it goes on, and he stumbles forward, latching onto the banister as he tries to climb the steps and get away from paint.

With a sharp crack, the bannister breaks in his hold. Darhk goes down like a sack of bricks, slipping on the stairs and hitting every one, face forward, as he goes down. There’s silence in the hall for a moment…before he lets out another groan. This time, there’s only pain, and no small measure of defeat.

“This…this is the worst day…of my _life…”_

 

**SCENE:** Cut to the Legends (sans Jax) outside a random dance bar, right in the middle of a massive swaying crowd milling about on the street, utterly wasted and **very messily** dancing the Macarena, the song itself blaring ear-blastingly loud. The onlookers, also incredibly drunk, are cheering them all on. Everyone is having the best time ever.

 

**SCENE:** Outside the manor, Eobard is growling as he deals with his sticky boots, finally managing to pull both free of the mess. He darts down over the edge of the banister to the bottom, where another door awaits. Eobard listens; there’s another clinking noise. He growls, and grabs the doorknob without thinking – before howling with pain. The doorknob is too hot – no, it’s too _cold!_ Legion!Len had obviously done something with the settings on his gun to lay a trap. Shaking with rage and pain, Eobard forces open the door, making his way inside. There are another set of a few steps, unexpectedly leading into their torture basement. The tacky noise of his boots peeling from the floor as he walks is very audible. Quickly, the door slams behind Eobard and the sound of a key locking the door sounds out. Eobard flips around, glaring at the door.

“You know I can phase through that, don’t you?” he calls out, but there’s no answer. He begins to vibrate his hand, but stops when Legion!Len’s voice calls out to him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says. As Eobard turns, the lights go off – the only light now comes from slivers through the doorway, and a dim blue light streaming from the small rectangular glass window at the other end of the basement. We see Legion!Len here, half hidden in the shadows, half visible in the blue light. His shoulders are tense and his hands are clenched; he’s waiting for Eobard, who smirks and finishes walking down the steps, feigning nonchalance. Eobard looks around, still smirking, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Snart, _please_ ,” he says derisively. “You think I’m afraid of a little _dark?”_

Of course, he doesn’t see Oculus!Len, now standing behind him, slowly smirking. Eobard streaks forward – and then abruptly falls flat on his face, howling with pain. He clutches his feet, feeling around the edges, pulling some small things off the soles with some difficulty. He holds them up close to his face, which is taut with budding rage, trying to see with the bad light. They’re small and their multiple facets are razor-sharp, designed to pierce even the thickest boot sole.

_“Caltrops?”_ he snarls. “You scattered _caltrops?_ Where did you even _get_ these?!”

“Not sure how you’re surprised that your torture basement is being used against you,” smirks Oculus!Len. Legion!Len doesn’t say anything; he just stares down Eobard, who snarls and gets back up.

“You’re going to _regret_ this,” Eobard says, and he zips forward, spearing Legion!Len with a murderous, vibrating arm –

Legion!Len flickers. Eobard’s eyes widen, and he looks up to the grate where the blue light is coming from, pulling his hand out of Legion!Len and moving closer. As he approaches, we see what he sees – a small device, projecting the hologram of Legion!Len. Pure fury momentarily paralyses Eobard; he shakes, just once, hard. Then he snatches the device and crushes it with his bare hands. Before the hologram extinguishes, it smirks. Nearly shaking with rage, Eobard lets the broken pieces of the device fall out of his hand.

“You’re a dead man walking, Snart…” he says, low and quiet, voice filled with deadly promise. Behind him, unbeknownst, Oculus!Len barks out a laugh.

“Don’t I know it, pal,” he says.

 

**SCENE:** Jax and Jessica are strolling through the funfair, smiling, Jax with his arm still around Jessica – but the focus isn’t on them, as we stop at an initially innocuous stand, where fair-goers are trying to win stuffed prizes by hitting bullseyes. Like Matryoshka dolls, the Legends pop out from the side of a stall – Mick on top, then Ray, then Amaya, Sara, Rip, and finally Stein. Somewhere along the way, they’ve gathered more accessories; it looks a lot like the 90s threw up on them, tried to clean it up, but then gave it up as a bad job.  Sara has accumulated another three plastic chokers, of varying colours, and a pair of round sunglasses with blue lenses. Amaya has a mood ring on every finger and she seems to have appropriated some of Sara’s butterfly clips. Mick and Ray have actually changed outfits somehow, and look like a pair of extras from Saved by the Bell; Ray is wearing a loud shirt coupled with dungarees (one strap artfully loose), and Mick with a mammoth skater tee, which swamps even his large frame. Impossibly, Stein has become _more_ of a square; his man-pris are now paired with a fanny pack. Rip has rolled up the sleeves of his suit, and has a wallet on a chain hanging from his pants. Somewhere along the way, somehow, Ray has accumulated frosted tips. Everything about them screams ‘trying too hard’, but they’re very obviously tipsy and having too much fun.

“Shh!” says Ray, and they all lurch forward, giggling. Stein actually falls over.

“Oh! I’ve fallen over!” he exclaims, blinking up at the others. Ray and Sara go into fits, leaning against one another.

“Oh no~~~ Help ~~~” sings Sara, in a jokey voice.

“I’ve faa~~~llen and I can’t get uuuu~~~p~~” finishes Ray, and they end up collapsing, tears in their eyes as they join Stein on the ground. One by one, Mick picks them up and deposits them back behind the stall, just in time to hide themselves for when Jax and Jessica walk back, heading for the bullseye game.

“Will I win you something?” Jax is asking. Jessica just lightly pats his arm and takes up the rifle herself.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she says, grinning hard. “I’ll win _you_ something.”

Jax barks out a laugh. “In that case – I want _that_ giant bird!”

The bird is the top prize. It’s huge and bright orange, with yellow wings – it looks like it’s possibly a knock-off Moltres bought from the Pokémon black market. Jessica lets out an easy laugh at the challenge, and the game begins.

 

**Scene:** Behind the stall, the team are beaming proudly at each other.

“I’m so proud!” says Stein.

“But now he’s partying with her and not with us!” says Sara.

“We should be happy for him,” says Ray.

“I _am_ happy,” says Sara. “She can party with us too! But I want Jax back.”

She employs her most deadly weapon – a full-on pout. Everyone’s heartstrings pull in their chests – the effects are instantaneous and visible.

“We can get Jax back,” says Mick, gruffly.

“But how?” asks Amaya, turning big, upset eyes onto him. Where normally she’d roll her eyes at Sara’s obvious ploy, she is currently far too drunk to have any defence against The Pout.

“It’s his 21st,” says Mick. “The only way to lure him back…is with booze.”

This makes utter sense to the totally plastered Legends.

“But Mick…” says Stein slowly, the single logical star in a dizzy, mad universe. “We don’t _have_ any more booze.”

Mick shakes his head and points a finger. Silently, they all look across the street, where an innocent liquor store sits on an entirely empty street…and comprehension slowly dawns on everyone’s faces.

“Operation: Get Jax Back,” says Ray, very seriously, slamming one fist into his other palm.

 

**SCENE:** Back at the funfair, a bell rings out, announcing that the top prize has been won. Everyone’s smiling and clapping as Jessica throws down the rifle and whoops, throwing her arms around Jax. He laughs and swings her around, only depositing her when the stall owner pulls down the big orange bird and passes it to them, smiling at their antics.

“Didn’t I tell you!” she beams, presenting him with the bird. “Happy birthday, Jax!”

He’s grinning as he takes it from her – luckily it comes with a little strap around the middle so he can carry it easily. “You’re some shot!”

She preens, leaning into him again, and he easily wraps an arm around her.

“What’s next?” she asks. “Rollercoaster? Haunted house?”

Jax has spotted something in the distance and he grins, pulling her along. Half-running, they’re both laughing as they jump up to an arcade-style stall. The Whack-a-Mole machine is free, and Jax picks up the mallets with great gusto.

“Man, I _love_ this game!” he says. “I haven’t played this stuff since I was a kid!”

Jessica grins, taking the mallet he passes her. “Were you any good?”

It’s Jax’s turn to preen. “I’ll have you know I was Whack-a-Mole Champion of my neighbourhood four years running,” he says, slipping a few quarters into the machine.

Jessica laughs, and the Whack-a-Mole machine fires up.

“Uh-oh!” she says. “Get ready to lose your title, Jackson!”

“Bring it, Cruz!” he retorts. Moles start popping up, and they immediately launch into a flurry of vicious strikes, shrieking and yelling every time they hit or miss one. As the scores begin to mount, the moles start getting quicker, and both Jax and Jessica descend into hysterical laughter as they try to keep up with the merciless machine.

 

**SCENE:** Legion!Len is smirking hard at us, and we hear the unmistakable sound of a fire abruptly igniting, followed by a very undignified yelp of pain and alarm – and then a fist comes out and smashes his visage – it’s actually a mirror, and it shatters into a hundred pieces. We pull back and see Eobard, who has just smashed the mirror, and Darhk, both of whom look utterly furious. They're both worse for wear – Darhk streaked with white paint awfully reminiscent of bird droppings, and Eobard, with singed hair and soot across his suit and skin – he had clearly triggered another trap while getting to the hologram.

_“Another_ hologram?” snaps Darhk. _“Really?!”_

“Just how many goddamn Snarts _are_ there?!” snarls Eobard. “I want the real one! Where the hell is the _real_ one?!”

 

**SCENE:** Meanwhile, in another part of the house, Queen Bee is relaxing in the most luxurious room yet, tea service at her side, complete with little cakes and a full set of fancy dishware. She’s stretched out on a chaise lounge, draped across it like a classic Hollywood starlet, and she’s taking a very elegant nap. Behind her, both Lens are very, _very_ quietly sneaking behind her to use the spare door to get into another part of the house. Legion!Len pauses just as they pass her.

_“Don’t_ even think about it,” hisses Oculus!Len, quiet even though he knows Queen Bee can’t hear him. Legion!Len just smirks and sneaks back to Queen Bee, stealthily slipping a few sweets off her trays before resuming his escape. Oculus!Len rolls his eyes at Legion!Len’s incorrigible expression. The doors are imperceptibly closed behind them, and Queen Bee sleeps on, none the wiser…

 

**SCENE:** The Whack-a-Mole machine finishes its last round, and Jax whoops as he’s declared the winner.

“The reigning champion!” he booms, swooping in and lifting up Jessica by the waist, swinging her around and around. She shrieks with laughter, batting at him, and he lets her down when the machine rings out again. A row of green tickets print out, and their eyes go wide.

“The high score was so good, you get a prize!” Jessica squeals. Jax grabs the row of tickets.

“Woo!” he says, catching Jessica’s hand and pulling her over to the desk. They collapse against it, out of breath and giggling. The stall manager just chortles at them, taking Jax’s  tickets. He examines them, then glances at Jax and Jessica, who are flushed with laughter.

“Tell you what,” says the stall owner. “It’s been pretty quiet tonight for prizes – I’ll let you choose your own prize.”

Jessica squeals again, and the stall owner gives Jax a wink. Jax grins, throwing an arm around Jessica.

“You pick,” he says, and she jumps up and down a little bit. Jax and the stall owner share a secret nod – the stall owner sending him an approving look, Jax graciously receiving it – while Jessica picks one out.

“I can’t chooooose,” she moans, and Jax points out an adorable green teddy bear with a white stomach. Best of all, it’s even bigger than his orange bird.

“How about that one?” he says, and Jessica is immediately enamoured.

“I didn’t even _see_ that one!” she exclaims. “Oh – oh – can I have that one, pleeeease?”

She directs this to the stall owner, who solemnly nods and obligingly hands it over. She giggles with excitement, squishing it to her face. Jax sends a thankful grin to the stall owner, who shakes their head with amusement and waves goodbye. Jax squeezes Jessica under his arm, leading her on towards the next attraction.

“This is the best night ever,” she says happily, and Jax has to agree.

As they’re walking through the funfair, however, they fail to look through a gap in the stalls. Through this gap, the street can easily be seen, although the darkness does mask some details. However, the dark isn’t so strong that it can hide the fact that the rest of the Legends are hovering outside a closed liquor store, trying extremely obviously to break in…

 

**SCENE:** Outside the liquor store, Sara is gazing longingly at the funfair, while Amaya, Stein and Rip are keeping watch – badly. Mick is trying to pick the lock in the front door, even though long experience should have told him to go around the back. Ray is ‘helping’ him, and judging by the Looks Mick is throwing him, the hovering is getting too much.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” says Stein anxiously. “What if we get caught! I can’t go to prison in 1996, I have important things to do during this time period!”

Nobody points out that it wouldn’t be his _past_ self that would go to jail, possibly – probably – definitely because people are too drunk to notice. Rip puts his palms up, likely trying to placate Stein.

“It’s all right,” declares Rip. “It’s fine. I’ve consulted Gideon, and she says that this particular store was robbed on this very night, and the assailants never caught.”

“Really?!” Stein turns wide eyes on him. Rip nods solemnly as Stein takes that in, comforted. Once Stein has turned away, however, Rip his shrugging his shoulders at Sara and Amaya, pulling a very succinct, ‘I have absolutely _no_ idea and I’m talking utter crap’ grimace at them.

“I just want some _booze,”_ says Sara, hugging herself. “Guys, how are we doing?”

 

**Scene:** We switch to Mick and Ray’s perspective. Ray is leaning in _way_ too close, and Mick seems to be having trouble concentrating on the lock.

“I should get my suit,” says Ray.

“No,” says Mick.

“If I had my suit I could just go into the lock and _swoosh_ and then -” Ray stops talking, his animated expression plummeting to sadness. “Awww, it’s not built yet! Bummer! I wish it was built _right now;_ then I could just go into the lock and _swoosh -_ I think I told you this before -”

“Haircut, if you want your suit you gotta finish building it first,” points out Mick. The lock on the door isn’t complicated, but the multiple tequila shots keep throwing him off.

Ray pouts. “Aww! Boo, no. I want it built now! Did I say  -?”

“About the lock, yeah,” says Mick.

“And the -”

“Swoosh, Haircut, shut up. I’m try’na concentrate.”

“Okay.” Ray immediately forgets that he’s supposed to be shutting up. “Y’know, if you had Ratigan -”

“Ratigan ain’t trained to pick locks,” Mick grunts. “Yet. Just - shut up for a minute -”

The lock in the door finally clicks, and Mick’s head knocks against the door in relief, putting his lockpicks back in his pocket.

“Okay,” he says, slipping into the store with Ray in tow. “We get in and out – don’t want a repeat of that hold-up in ’91, right?”

“What?” asks Ray, and Mick pauses, looking around. The store is empty. He’d been speaking to Len, but Len, of course, is nowhere in sight.

“Nothing,” he says shortly. “Get the hard stuff – and whatever you do, don’t trip the alarm.”

“Gotcha,” says Ray, and he disappears into the store. Mick meanders over the whiskey, stopping by a particular brand and picking up a bottle.

“Heh,” he says, half-smiling. “Your favourite –” He stops, again, and closes his eyes, tightly gripping the bottle and swaying slightly. He glances outside to where the others are waiting. They’re talking amongst themselves, although he can’t hear what they’re saying.

“This would’ve been right up your street,” he says, in an undertone. “Would’ve loved to see us make idiots of ourselves.”

He sets the bottle down, heavily, but doesn’t let it go. He stares at it, transfixed – haunted.

“Where’d you go?” he said. “If a voice in my head is all I get to have of you…”

He snatches the bottle back up, ripping off the top and taking a swig.

“I told you to leave, and you did,” he says. “Since when do you listen to me, huh? If this is me getting better it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it -!”

The alarm suddenly blares out, ringing wildly, and Mick jumps about a foot, crashing into a shelf behind him and dropping the bottle of whiskey he’d been holding. It smashes into pieces on the floor, and he’s frozen, just staring at it, until Ray careens around the corner, looking panicked. He’s got bottles in every pocket, and a fistful of money. Mick stares.

“What the hell –” Mick starts, and Ray rushes with a barely coherent answer.

“I know you said not to set off the alarm,” says Ray quickly. “But, uh, I did. And, it’s done now.”

“Why the hell do you have money in your hand?!” exclaims Mick.

Ray looks down at it, as though he’s forgotten it was even there. He drops it, shaking his hand a little to get the notes to unstick from his palm.

“I felt bad for stealing!” Ray explains. “So I thought, I should leave money. But I don’t have any money. You know where there _is_ money, though? The cash register! So I –”

Even this is a level of drunk stupid that Mick, inebriated as he is, can’t handle. He cuts Ray off by grabbing him around the scruff of his neck, moving them out of the store and snagging a couple of random bottles as they go. Outside, the others are staring at them, wide-eyed and opened-mouthed.

“Haircut triggered the alarm!” Mick shouts. “Everybody leg it!”

They all take one look at each other…and promptly start to dash away, albeit knocking into each other a few times as they try to figure out _where_ they’re supposed to be going. Stein goes entirely the wrong way, and Sara has to run back, grab him, and pull him in the right direction. Behind them, the liquor store alarm wails and wails…

 

**SCENE:** We see Darhk prowling the hallway. There’s a faint tinkling of breaking glass and he pauses. A moment later, Eobard streaks next to him and they share a dark nod. They position themselves at the double doors of the next room, where the sound came from, and in unison, kick open the doors and invade the room. It’s empty, of course, barring the usual ornate furniture – it’s a drawing room of some kind, with a large glass-front cabinet in the far corner, an elegant marble fireplace, a number of chairs and sofas, a writing desk and some smaller side tables. The window on the far side of the room is open, and over the thick window ledge a curtain cord is tautly pulled, trailing from inside where it’s attached to the wall. It looks like an escape attempt, and Eobard growls, making for it.

“Hold up,” says Darhk, and Eobard rounds on him.

_“What?”_ Eobard snaps. “I’m going to go get him!”

Darhk rolls his eyes. “Oh _please_ , don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the oldest trick in the book,” he says. “This is a classic technique – toss something out of an open window and pretend to run away. While we’re on a wild goose chase, _he’ll_ be safe, finding another exit. We should search the room –”

Darhk closes his eyes against the gust of wind that fills the room as Eobard zips around. Eobard stops in front of Darhk, gritting his teeth.

“It’s _empty,”_ he says. “Snart _isn’t here._ Do I have your _permission_ to go outside now?”

Darhk just levels a Look at Eobard. “He’s not outside, I can promise you that,” he says, walking over to the window. “Look – this is just a piece of braided silk. There’s no way it would hold Snart’s weight. This is clearly just a blind to get us to go outside.”

“So he’s still in the house,” says Eobard flatly.

“He’s still in the house,” confirms Darhk, and immediately holds a hand out to stop Eobard from running off. “Wait.”

Eobard looks _very_ close to murder. “What. Is it.”

Darhk waves a hand between the both of them. “Who knows what other traps Snart has left for us to find? We need to take this _slow_.”

This is the literal exact opposite of anything Eobard needed to hear at that precise moment in time. While almost certain to not be a religious man, he does turn his eyes heavenward, for a few seconds creating a very sincere picture of a man devoutly praying to a higher authority.

“Fine,” says Eobard shortly. “But when we find him, _I_ get first dibs.”

“We’ll see,” says Darhk flippantly, strolling out of the room. Eobard glares at him darkly for a moment before eventually following.

They leave the room. Instead of following them, however, the scene pauses for a moment before slowly approaching the open window, where the cord is hanging over the ledge and the lacy curtain has been sucked out by the draft. Through the window is a beautiful view, even in the burgeoning night; indigo streaks the cloudless sky, and the grounds are smooth and ringed with neat trees, dark from the sunken sun, with faint light from the sliver of moon peeping overhead. We linger only a few moments on that view until we sweep through the window and the perspective changes slightly – now we see the window as though we were outside looking in, and we see the lovely pale stone of the house, and the window surrounded by wreathes of foliage, with latticework peeking through in places. We look closer…and underneath the heavy thick ledge of the windowsill, half-buried in green leaves…is Legion!Len, clutching hard onto the latticework. The curtain cord he threw earlier, complete with a lamp tied to the end, is mere inches from his hiding place…

 

**SCENE:** Jax and Jessica approach the exit to the funfair, the evening clearly winding down – there aren’t so many people about, and a lot of the stalls are packing up. Jessica and Jax have their share of funfair goodies – half-empty buckets of candy floss, some keychains, and, of course, their toys. They linger around the exit, coming to face one another with slightly sad looks on their faces, knowing that they have to say goodbye, but not really wanting to.

“I should probably head back…it _is_ my friend’s birthday, after all,” Jessica says, albeit reluctantly. Jax knows how she feels.

“Yeah,” he says. “I probably should have said something to the others before I headed out…”

“You really care about them huh?” says Jessica, and Jax has to nod.

“Yeah – I mean, they can be annoying, and sometimes it feels like I’m the only voice of reason, but…” He smiles, clearly reminiscing. Jessica smiles fondly at him, happy from looking at his happiness. “They really do care. I know that no matter what, they’ve got my back. They’re like family, y’know?”

“That’s the best kind of friendship,” says Jessica. “Sometimes it’s the family you find that really makes life all the richer.”

“Agreed,” says Jax, squeezing her hand. “They _were_ the ones who planned my birthday night out, after all. All they wanted was for me to have a good time.”

Jessica looks at him through her lashes, smiling coyly. “And did you?” she asks. “Have a good time, that is?”

He grins, pulling her closer. Her hands go to his shoulders – his hands go to her waist – and they share a kiss for a few moments. When they break apart, they’re nose to nose, and smiling gently.

“Thanks for a great night, Jessica,” he says, softly.

“My pleasure,” she replies, equally soft, and they move away a little, more shy with each other now than they had been the whole night. “You’re heading back to your friends?”

Jax nods. “I’d better,” he says. “Without me, who knows what kind of trouble they’re getting themselves into!”

 

**SCENE:** Cut to the team arriving at varying speeds to a small park. They promptly collapse at the base of a tree, panting and clinking loudly. Ray starts absently pulling bottles out of his dungarees and passing them around – there are too many bottles of absinthe and tequila, but nobody protests – or even seems to notice.

“Lucky escape!” says Ray cheerfully, and they all clink together whatever bottles they’re holding.

 

**Scene:** Cut to England – we see an overview of the house, and then we see Legion!Len, still half-hidden against the wall of the house, his dark clothes cloaking him well. After a moment spent contemplating the underside of the windowsill, he delicately – and quietly – begins to climb up, heading for the side of the windowsill. Just as he cautiously peers over the edge –

“Boo,” says Oculus!Len. He’d been resting on the edge of the window, waiting for Legion!Len to show up. “Relax – they’re both distracted on another floor.”

Legion!Len, who’d received an almighty startle from Oculus!Len, just exhales through his nose and shakes his head darkly.

“Handy to have you keeping an eye out for me,” says Legion!Len.

“Well, most opticians agree, it _is_ easier to see with two Lens-es,” replies Oculus!Len, casually and completely unashamed. Legion!Len closes his eyes briefly - possibly regretting he didn’t get to the pun first - but he doesn’t reply. He keeps climbing, and Oculus!Len raises an eyebrow.

“The roof?” he says. “Might as well – they’ll be looking inside, and you’ll be outside. Good call.”

“Pretty sure that giving yourself a compliment is just called vanity,” says Legion!Len, in an undertone, and he keeps climbing, past the window. Oculus!Len looks out – they were on the top floor, so there wasn’t all that far to go until the roof. There were convenient hand and footholds in the old architecture as well – nice and ostentatious, plenty of curlicues, just how Len liked them. Houses like these were a ridiculously easy score.

“Let me hazard a guess,” says Oculus!Len, watching as Legion!Len climbs and gets closer to the roof, latching on to pieces of architecture with well-practised precision. “You’re not aiming to escape.”

“Got it in one,” murmurs Legion!Len, now pulling himself onto the roof. “Not much point trying to outrun a speedster, is there?”

“Or a mind-controlling amulet – _or_ an assassin,” adds Oculus!Len, coming out from behind Legion!Len as Legion!Len stands on the roof. They share a quirk of eyebrows.

“I’m not afraid of admitting when I’m outgunned,” says Legion!Len. “And when you’re outgunned, you know what to do..?”

“Get a better gun,” replies Oculus!Len. “You’re heading to where they’re keeping their spear pieces, aren’t you?”

Legion!Len smirks, turning to carefully walk across the roof, aiming for the opposite side of the house. “That’s right. My, you are a sharp one.”

“You would know,” replies Oculus!Len, following Legion!Len’s path.“So you get the spear pieces – and either use them to get you out of here –”

“Or I somehow create an aberration big enough that the Legends will show up, preferably as soon as possible –” says Legion!Len.

“Like the white knights they are,” finishes Oculus!Len, dry as a desert.

“Exactly,” says Legion!Len. “I just have to get to the room before –”

“Going somewhere, _honey?”_

Both Lens freeze, slowly turning. Hovering in the air is Queen Bee, hands on her hips, eyebrow cocked. Behind her is the sky, darkened from indigo to dark midnight blue, and the sliver of moon crowns her head. Her amulet gives off an eerie glow in the darkness. Both Lens stare, eyes widening, as Queen Bee slowly – and wickedly – smiles…

 

**SCENE:** Waving goodbye to Jessica, they each go their separate ways. Jax looks like he just won a million bucks, and there’s a jump in his step – then he slowly frowns, realising that there’s a ringing in the air. A liquor store has been broken into, but nobody is really paying any attention to it. Jax walks right past; the window hasn’t been smashed in, so at least the shop owner would be fine in the morning. He walks another block, making a roundabout way back to the nightclub, before passing a shadowy park area – probably really nice in the daytime, but now it’s filled with giggly drunk people, drinking in the shadows of the trees, bottles clinking –

Wait.

Jax’s feet slow, and he takes a closer look at the people.

“Oh no,” he says. It’s the rest of the team. They’re mostly lying down, well into the stage of drunkenness where vertical posture is totally impossible. Worst of all, there’s a total mix of mostly-empty bottles at their feet – not just beer and cider, but vodka, tequila, and…oh god, absinthe. They’ve been drinking absinthe.

“Where -?!” Jax pauses, the ringing of the liquor store alarm still faintly audible. He closes his eyes, and then covers them with both hands for good measure. “Oh my god. Please tell me you guys didn’t.”

“JAX!” Ray is the first to see him. “OMIGOSH GUYS JAX IT’S JAX!”

Everyone starts cheering: “JAX! JAX! JAX! JAX!”

“Jax, have you tried absinthe?!” calls out Amaya. “Omigosh. It’s – omigosh.”

“It’s _poison,”_ says Rip happily, swinging a bottle. “I can feel my insides pickling!”

“You _have_ to try it!” adds Amaya, holding out her own bottle.

“You guys _robbed_ a _liquor store?!”_ hisses Jax, walking closer while trying to keep an eye out for witnesses.

“Yes!” says Ray happily. “I committed a CRIME! Mick showed me.”

“He tripped the alarm,” says Mick. “But those dungarees meant we could carry more…so. Not bad, Haircut.”

“I committed a CRIME!” repeats Ray, still happy.

Jax facepalms himself. “Ray, vigilantism is illegal,” he points out. “You were already committing crimes years ago.”

Ray looks extremely confused for a moment before his face abruptly clears. “Ah – no,” he says, with some authority. “Mick wasn’t there then. So it wasn’t a crime.”

Flawless logic, apparently, because everyone else is nodding along in agreement. Jax snorts, amused despite himself, and he glances up – the sky is starting to lighten. The streets are clearer too, and people are starting to go home. He looks back at the group, drunk and happy, and he starts to smile…

Then Amaya goes green and jumps to another tree, getting heartily sick behind it.

“Ohhhh, guys, I’ve got time jump sickness!” she moans. “I’ve got time jump sickness!”

“Aaaand…that’s all she wrote,” says Jax, shaking his head. He pries the absinthe bottle out of Ray’s hands and simply bats Ray away when Ray starts whining and making grabby hands. The bottle gets tossed into the garbage, and Jax goes around to the rest of the Legends, picking various bottles off of them. They respond with varying degrees of offense and confusion, but there’s no time to protest really, since he moves so quickly. Mick gives him a bit of trouble, but Jax just looks him in the eye and says, “On my birthday, Mick? C’mon.”, and Mick deflates, rolling his eyes and handing him the bottles.

“This night was awesome, guys,” he says, forcing everybody to their feet. “But I think it’s time to get home.”

They all shakily troop out of the little park, heading offscreen to get back to the Waverider. Last out is Mick, who’s slung Amaya over his shoulder.

“I don’t _wanna_ be carried!” Amaya is saying, ineffectually batting Mick and kicking her legs weakly. “I’ll get time sick down your back! I’ll get time siiiick…!”

 

**SCENE:** In England, Queen Bee and the Lens are in a standoff, with Queen Bee still hovering in the air, and the Lens standing with tension etched into every line of their bodies. Queen Bee is openly smug at catching Legion!Len so easily.

“Now, honey,” she says. “I’m as big a fan of stabbing people in the back as you obviously are. But I just can’t _abide_ disloyalty from my own troops.”

“Buzz off, Bee - I’m not one of your sycophants,” snaps Legion!Len, and her eyes narrow – not in anger, but amusement.

“Not yet,” she says, and she slowly raises her hand to her necklace…

“The amulet!” barks out Oculus!Len, and Legion!Len has a split second to react. He immediately darts forward, pushing off the edge of the roof and jumping for Queen Bee. She obviously wasn’t expecting this move, because she shrieks and tries to avoid him – but it’s too late. Legion!Len has latched around her and has caught her in a headlock.

“The necklace!” shouts Oculus!Len. “Get the necklace!”

Legion!Len just grits his teeth; trying to hold onto Queen Bee is like staying attached to a bucking bronco – she weaves up and down, side to side, trying to dislodge him, and eventually shrieks again when his fingers graze the amulet. She dives for a wall and rams Legion!Len against it. Taken aback, Legion!Len lets out an exclamation, and she rams him in again. His grip finally dislodges and he tumbles off Queen Bee, badly hitting a wide balcony on the second floor. However, as he goes, he manages to catch a hold of part of Queen Bee’s wings, and he wrenches it badly, causing her to screech with surprise and anger. As he struggles to his feet,  Queen Bee lands – with significantly less grace than usual thanks to her wrenched wings, and with an _incandescent_ look of wrath upon her face. He immediately puts his fists up as both defence and offense, but she darts forward, unstoppable, and punches him in the face. Legion!Len goes down – there was a helluva lot of power behind that one hit. Queen Bee towers over him, hair a mess, jacket sleeve torn, wings crooked – she looks utterly _furious._

“How _dare_ you,” she hisses, kicking at him. He catches her leg and twists, trying to catch her off guard, but her wings save her and she turns the move into another excuse for a kick.

“I am a _Queen,”_ she says, shaking hands curling into fists.

“Not if the others have anything to say about it,” tries Legion!Len, struggling to stand as he pushes his back against the balcony’s stone railing for leverage. His words give Queen Bee pause, but not for long. Oculus!Len darts glances between both of them, taught as a bowstring.

“Just keep talking,” he says. “Keep her distracted – then go for the amulet.”

“As though they’ll be able to do anything against my amulet,” Queen Bee says, obviously replying only to Legion!Len.

“As though _you’ll_ be able to do anything against super-speed,” retorts Legion!Len. He’s staying on the ground – from the way Oculus!Len nods at him, it’s clear that this is just a bid to make Queen Bee see him as a non-threat. “Be real, here – what’s in it for them if you get what you want? That’ll just be another slice of the world they won’t own.”

Queen Bee frowns. “A small slice,” she says, slowly.

“Exactly,” says Legion!Len, and like the master manipulator he is, his voice goes soft, persuasive, friendly. “They know you’re a Queen. Do you really think you’ll be happy with just a tiny corner of the entire _world?_ I’m sure they’ve already got a contingency plan in place for you.”

Queen Bee is frowning hard, eyes narrowed in suspicion – she clearly doesn’t trust Legion!Len, but his words are also hitting something inside of her. Then the moment is broken by a gust of wind and a split-second lightning streak – Eobard and Darhk have arrived, sour-faced.

“We could hear you from the floor below,” says Darhk. “You’re wasting time, Bee – you could have incapacitated him in all the time you’ve taken just _talking_ to him.”

Queen Bee bristles, eyes flashing. The situation isn’t helped by Eobard throwing a filthy glare at Legion!Len – but it looks as though he’s throwing it at Queen Bee.

“You’d _better_ not be listening to him,” says Eobard. All of this is far too much like a dressing down for Queen Bee’s liking.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she snaps in return.

“While you’ve been soliloquising, we could have had him captured!” says Darhk, heatedly.

“Oh, says the man covered in paint!” replies Queen Bee, sneering. “I can see _you’ve_ done a very good job capturing him already. At least _I’ve_ got him pinned!”

“You don’t have him pinned, you idiot!” shouts Eobard. “He’s got you talking! He’s trying to distract you!”

Queen Bee lights up with fury. “Don’t – you – **_dare_** _call me an_ ** _idiot_** _-!”_

“You’re _both_ idiots!” now Darhk is shouting, just as angry as Queen Bee – and that’s when Legion!Len strikes, at the height of everyone’s tension. In one movement, he pushes himself off the ground and tackles Queen Bee around the middle, bringing her down. He goes for the amulet again – but she roars with anger and her wings come to life. These, coupled with a few enthusiastic elbow strikes, has Legion!Len flung back again, hitting the balcony railing, hard. His clothes are slightly torn from Queen Bee’s wings, and now he’s bleeding from a cut on his head. While he struggles to get back up, Queen Bee scrambles to her feet, now in even further disarray, entire body wild with fury. Caught between rage at Legion!Len for trying to steal her amulet, and anger at the other two for trying to order her around and treating her like an idiotic underling, Queen Bee slaps a hand against her amulet – but it’s Darhk and Eobard she puts under her power.

_“Get him!”_ she yells, and the two dart forward, easily restraining Legion!Len and knocking him out. Eobard and Darhk then come out of the spell the amulet had put them under, blinking hard – it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Their eyes widen and they both immediately scramble for where they kept their protective amulets - both are there, but Darhk’s is covered in paint and Eobard’s is slightly singed and covered in soot. The amulets aren’t irreparably damaged, but it’s clear that they need to be clean in order to work with proper strength. They turn to Queen Bee, faces twisted with anger and suspicion.

“What in the _hell -”_ starts Eobard, but Queen Bee cuts him off.

_“Don’t_ call me an idiot,” Queen Bee says venomously. “I’m ten times the rulers you are, or ever will be!”

“I _don’t_ appreciate being brainwashed,” snarls Darhk, nostrils flaring as he steps forward. Eobard is in serious agreement, but Queen Bee only directs a cool look towards both of them, clearly calming down after having made her point – that she was not someone they could just boss around without consequences.

“People rarely do,” she replies, crossing her arms. “And it was only for a few moments - your precious amulets will work perfectly well once you’ve cleaned them off.”

_“Never_ do that again,” says Eobard angrily, and she just tilts her head.

“Never give me a reason to,” she says. “And anyway, I don’t know what you’re so upset about. It wasn’t as though I was making you do something you didn’t already want to do.”

“We would have been able to capture him easily without you using your amulet!” snaps Darhk. “He’s _right there!”_

“Again – like you were doing so well earlier?” she says, raising an eyebrow. Eobard and Darhk glance at each other, now angry at the humiliating memories.

“Let’s be honest for a moment,” Queen Bee continues. “The only reason you two worked so well a few minutes ago was because I was _making_ you work well. Snart would have escaped if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s hardly _my_ fault!” says Darhk, jabbing a thumb at Eobard, who turns an incredulous, offended glare at him. “If Thawne hadn’t managed to get himself locked in the basement –”

“You weren’t complaining when I picked you up from that asinine trap, Darhk!” snaps Eobard in return.

Behind them, Oculus!Len is frantically trying to get Legion!Len up and running, but Legion!Len is seriously unconscious, the blood from his head wound making him look half-dead.

“You need to go,” Oculus!Len is saying, one eye on the arguing Legion. “They’re focused on each other – you need to get out – wake up – run!”

“ENOUGH!”

Eobard shouts, putting both hands up. The arguing stops for the moment, and, while still incredibly angry, Eobard seems to have reigned back his self-control.

“I think we can all agree that we hate one another,” he says. “But now is not the time for turning on one another. Snart has tried to make a run for it, and we have him now.”

“So, we kill him,” says Darhk, started forward.

“He’s too useful to kill…” says Eobard, frowning, and Darhk scoffs.

_“No-one_ is too useful to kill,” says Darhk, moving towards Legion!Len. Oculus!Len knows he can’t stop them, but that knowledge is academic – he still stands in front of Legion!Len, fists raised, ready for a fight. But Queen Bee stops Darhk.

“Or…” she says, smiling slowly. It’s a terrible, terrifying smile, and the other two Legion members seem to understand instinctively what she means. They all approach Legion!Len, surrounding him, and the smiles they direct towards him are so awful, Oculus!Len’s face reflects only fear…

 

**SCENE:** Back on the Waverider, everyone stumbles into the control deck, not even making it as far as the chairs – they all just sort of…gently fall to the ground while they’re still walking, and end up either lying face down on the floor or somehow propped up against the wall, all in a big group. They’re hooting with laughter, thoroughly, _thoroughly_ drunk. Jax is last, and by far the most sober – although he’s definitely had enough to have relaxed by now. He’s looking at his team with amused fondness and a small measure of disbelief at just how messy they’ve gotten – he’s literally and figuratively the last man standing.

“Jax!” shouts Sara. “Did you have a good time!”

“Yes, Jax, yes!” adds Ray, throwing his hands in the air. Jax rubs the space between his eyes and chuckles.

“Yeah, I did…and I just wanna say one thing to you all,” says Jax, and this time, everyone is drunk and happy and cosy, and they’re finally giving him their full attention. He pauses for a moment, just looking at them, before he speaks.

“I _am_ 21 years…and a week old,” he says, and waits for recognition. Nothing is forthcoming; everyone is still waiting happily for his declaration that he loves all of them and they’re the best team ever. Not that he _wasn’t_ thinking that…but he really, really wants to see their expressions when they realise.

“If I was born 21 years and one week ago…” he says slowly, like he’s a teacher trying to explain a complicated math problem. “…then when was my birthday..?”

Everyone pauses. Frowns crease their faces as drunken minds attempt extremely complicated arithmetic. Ray, to Jax’s amazement, actually holds up his fingers and starts waveringly counting them. To Jax’s even greater amazement, Stein sloppily slaps one of Ray’s hands, grabbing one of the fingers for emphasis.

“No, Ray, _no,”_ says Stein. _“Carry_ the one. You have to _carry_ it.”

Ray moves the same hand…over to the other side of his body. He literally carries the one. Jax puts his face into his hands.

“Oh my god,” he says. “Guys. My birthday was _last_ week.”

There’s silence. When he looks at his team again, they’re looking extremely affronted, as though Jax just swore at them.

“WHAT?” screeches Sara. “Uh no. Jax, uh-uh. Nope.”

“I mean, you can ask my mom if you want,” says Jax, ribs now aching from trying to keep a straight face. “She was there, you know.”

“I didn’t sign off on this,” says Sara. “JAX. I. Am. Your. CAPTAIN. I didn’t sign OFF on this!”

“He didn’t even ASK me!” says Rip, entirely offended.

“He can have a birthday whenever he wants!” bellows Mick. “He’s a MAN now.”

Mick is immediately buried under Sara, Amaya, and Ray, who have for some reason taken drunken offense at Mick taking Jax’s side.

“Maybe your mom got the date wrong?” says Ray casually, as though he wasn’t currently taking part in a dogpile on top of Mick. This line finally sends Jax into hysterics, bent double and wheezing.

“Guys –” he manages. “Guys – she was _there –”_

“I didn’t sign off on this,” says Sara, moodily. “I’m the CAPTAIN. You should have ASKED before you turned 21 last week.”

“I didn’t think birthdays were something I had to clear with you guys!” says Jax, clutching his ribs.

“That’s no excuse!” And now Amaya has joined in, flinging an accusatory finger at Jax. “Everyone worked really hard! Sara is your CAPTAIN.”

“You didn’t even ASK me!” repeats Rip, obviously stuck on this point.

Literal tears are streaming down Jax’s face. “ _How_ did you not check this with Gideon?!” he wheezes.

“Oh, they did, Mr Jackson,” says Gideon brightly. He turns to the holo-display, where Gideon’s mischievous face appears.

“Wait, you told them the wrong date?” he asks, incredulous.

“I must admit, not in so many words,” replies Gideon. “They were wondering if one of the team had a birthday coming up. I simply mentioned that you were due a 21st birthday celebration. Given your hard work maintaining the Waverider, I assumed that your birthday simply slipped your mind and deduced that should a birthday celebration occur, it would make a welcome break from your responsibilities.”

“And they didn’t think to check the proper date?” asks Jax.

“I’m SORRY we LOVE you, JAX,” shouts Ray.

“YEAH, JAX,” adds Amaya.

“STOP YELLING,” yells Mick, still buried at the bottom of the dogpile.

“Unfortunately, Mr Jackson, once they heard me say ‘21st birthday’ I’m afraid they ceased consulting with me,” continues Gideon, far too calmly to be anything but utterly and unrepentantly devious. Jax is now inconsolable – his laughter is so intense it’s gone silent.

“Okay – okay,” he eventually manages, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I love you guys, too.”

Immediately Sara flings out her arms – all is forgiven.

“Jax!” she commands. “Get into the dogpile!”

Ray begins to chant ‘dogpile, dogpile, dogpile’. Eventually the others pick it up until Jax capitulates and he’s unceremoniously yanked into the pile. Mick lets out a fake roar of anger, but since he’s more than able to throw them all off if he so wanted, they all just laugh hysterically. Tears streaming down his face once again, Jax tilts his head back and just _laughs._

 

**SCENE:** Later on, Jax is going to bed, clearly exhausted but very happy. He picks up the orange bird Jessica won him and fondly smiles at it. After a few moments spent reminiscing, he puts the bird on a shelf next to his bed - a prime position where it can survey all the room.  He smiles at it as he gets into bed, before he turns off the lights…and a few moments later he hears scuffling noises and ineffectual whispering. He turns the lights back on, sighing.

“Guys, I can hear you,” he calls out.

The door opens up and everyone yells, “SURPRISE!”

Then Ray says, “Oh, the lights are already on!”

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” says Stein comfortingly. “Jefferson, we all wanted to apologise for getting your birthday wrong –”

Jax interrupts him, laughing. “Guys, it’s okay. I had a great time.”

“Not the point!” says Ray.

“We should have been more attentive,” says Amaya. They part to the side, and Mick comes in, presenting…what was probably supposed to have been a cake. It’s clearly half-cooked and the icing is mixed with crumbs and they’ve, for some reason, put three ‘x’s on ‘Jax’ but only one ‘p’ in ‘Happy’, and an extra ‘y’ after ‘Birth’…but it warms his heart nevertheless, and he accepts it with a smile.

Jax laughs. “You guys…thank you,” he says, sincerely. “This was seriously…the best day ever.”

“I put whiskey in it,” adds Mick. “Hair of the dog, you know?”

Amaya starts, offended. “Excuse me! I didn’t put any dog hairs in it!”

Everyone starts to laugh; gathered in Jax’s room, still tipsy, and overall, having a really great time.

 

**SCENE:** The scene abruptly changes, with the laughter cutting off so quickly it still rings in our ears, a shocking absence.

We see only darkness. We hear a voice, begging us to wake up, to fight. These sounds come in as though our heads are underwater, and slowly we surface – light begins to stream in, and the sounds resolve to Oculus!Len’s voice. Legion!Len wakes up fully – he’s strapped to a chair, back in the basement, and no matter how much he struggles the bindings are tight.

“They’re coming,” says Oculus!Len urgently. “You need to get out – you need to –”

“We wanted you awake,” comes Darhk’s voice. Legion!Len freezes, looking up. The Legion are emerging from the shadows, strolling towards Legion!Len, those terrible smiles on their faces. They’ve changed out of their damaged outfits; they’re now wearing period-appropriate attire, dressed in black as though they’re attending a funeral.

“We wanted you to _understand,”_ says Eobard. He and Darhk stop a short distance away, and Queen Bee approaches on her own, one hand stretching out to Legion!Len as he begins again to struggle wildly in the chair. Her other hand is on her amulet…

“Fight it!” shouts Oculus!Len, desperately. _“Fight it!”_

But there’s no fighting the inevitable; Legion!Len can only close his eyes as Queen Bee’s hand reaches his face. She activates her amulet…

And we see only darkness.

 

**END CREDITS**


	2. Chapter 2

 

See on tumblr [here](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/post/165619488192/art-for-the-seventeenth-lotrewrite-written-by)

 

 

Kickingshoes' tarot card for Episode 17 - they've created a full set of Major Arcana based on the episodes! See more of their art [here!](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/)


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